Location: The Disputed Lands - Outside Volantis
While Daenerys marched her new Unsullied army toward Yunkai to "break the wheel," Ren sailed The Balerion west, toward the massive encampment of the most famous mercenary company in the world.
The Golden Company. Ten thousand men. Horses. And elephants.
Ren stood on the deck, watching the campfires stretch for miles along the Rhoyne river.
"They have a reputation," Saya Takagi said, reading from her notes. " 'Beneath the gold, the bitter steel.' They are composed of Westerosi exiles. They never break a contract."
"Everyone breaks a contract, Saya," Ren said, adjusting his black silk gloves. "It just depends on the penalty clause."
Ren brought a smaller team this time: Saeko (Bodyguard), Saya (Negotiator), and Hirano (Heavy Support). He left Maggie, Andrea, Amy, and Shizuka to protect Daenerys in Astapor.
"We aren't here to hire them," Ren corrected. "We're here to acquire them."
The Captain-General's Tent
Ren walked into the main pavilion with the confidence of a man who owned the planet.
Harry Strickland, the Captain-General, sat at a desk covered in ledgers. He was a portly man, more accountant than warrior. But beside him stood two men who mattered more.
A grim man with red hair dye fading from his beard: Jon Connington. And a young man with dyed blue hair, polishing a sword that looked far too regal for a sellsword: Young Griff.
"Who are you?" Strickland demanded, looking up. "The sentries said you flew in?"
"I am Ren," he said. "I come from Slaver's Bay. I speak for the Dragon Queen."
Connington stiffened. "Daenerys? We heard rumors. They say she has hatchlings."
"She has armies," Ren corrected. "Unsullied. Dothraki. And three dragons."
Ren sat down without being asked.
"I need cavalry. I need heavy infantry. And I need those elephants I see outside. I'm buying the Golden Company."
Strickland laughed nervously. "We are not for sale, Lord Ren. We are currently... under contract."
"To whom?" Ren asked, though he knew.
"To the true King of Westeros," Young Griff spoke up, stepping forward. He had the violet eyes of Valyria.
Connington put a hand on the boy's chest to stop him, but it was too late.
"I am Aegon Targaryen," the boy announced. "Son of Rhaegar. I survived the Sack of King's Landing."
The tent went silent.
Ren looked at the boy.
"Scan him," Ren telepathed to the system
System analyzed the boy.
[Analysis: DNA Match - Targaryen (Partial/Diluted). Blackfyre Markers Detected.]
Ren smirked. Blackfyre. The female line. The Mummer's Dragon.
"Aegon," Ren repeated slowly. "You think you have a better claim than Daenerys?"
"I am the male heir," Aegon said proudly. "She is my aunt. She should kneel to me."
Ren stood up. The air temperature in the tent rose rapidly.
[Skill: Flame of the Sovereign (Active).]
Ren's skin began to glow faintly like embers.
"Here is the problem, 'Aegon'," Ren walked toward him. Connington drew his sword, but Saeko intercepted him instantly, the Murasame hovering inches from his throat.
"Daenerys walked into fire and came out with dragons," Ren whispered, standing toe-to-toe with the boy. "What have you done? You hid on a boat with a shy tutor and a fat sellsword."
"I have been trained to rule!" Aegon shouted, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.
Ren looked at the sword. Blackfyre. The ancestral blade of Targaryen Kings.
"That sword," Ren said. "It's wasted on you."
"Draw steel!" Connington roared. "Kill him!"
Strickland panicked. "No violence in the tent! The contract!"
"I am voiding your contract," Ren said.
He grabbed Aegon by the throat.
Connington lunged, but Ren didn't even look. He caught Connington's sword with his left hand.
CLANG.
His hand was Titan Hardened. The steel sparked harmlessly.
Ren lifted Aegon off the ground.
"You aren't a dragon," Ren said, his eyes burning blue. "You're a prop in Varys's play."
Ren threw Aegon across the tent. The boy crashed into a table of wine, gasping for air. The sword Blackfyre slid across the floor.
Ren walked over and picked it up.
The Valyrian steel was black, rippled, and heavy. It felt... right.
"A King's weapon," Ren admired it.
He turned to Strickland.
"Harry. You like gold, don't you?"
"I... yes," Strickland stammered.
Ren opened his inventory. He dumped the entire contents of the Astapor Treasury (looted during the sack) onto the floor. Gold bars, gems, jewelry. A mound of wealth worth ten contracts.
"Contract bought," Ren said cold. "You work for me now. Your mission is simple: You sail to Slaver's Bay. You join Daenerys. And you swear fealty to her, not the boy."
"And if we refuse?" Connington spat, helping Aegon up.
Ren pointed Blackfyre at the tent entrance.
Outside, a shadow blocked the sun.
Typhon, the black Sovereign Dragon, landed in the center of the camp. He was growing fast—already the size of a horse. He roared, a sound that made the war elephants panic and trumpet in fear.
"Then I burn your camp," Ren said. "And I feed your elephants to my pet."
Strickland looked at the gold. He looked at the dragon. He looked at the fake King bleeding on the floor.
"Our word is good as gold," Strickland sweated. "And... you have a lot of gold."
[Quest Update: The Golden Company.]
[Objective: Recruit the Mercenaries.]
[Status: Success.]
[Loot: Sword 'Blackfyre' (Valyrian Steel).]
Ren looked at Connington and Aegon.
"Take the boy," Ren said dismissively.
"Go to Westeros if you want. Play your game. But without the army, you're just a ghost story."
Connington glared at Ren with pure hatred. "You stole his birthright."
"I stole his sword," Ren corrected, sheathing Blackfyre.
"He never had the birthright."
The Return to Meereen
Ren returned to the Balerion. He now had a fleet of Volantene transport ships following him, carrying 10,000 soldiers and 24 war elephants.
"That went well," Hirano said, eating a Volantene meat pie.
"But why let the kid live? He's a loose end."
"He's a distraction," Ren said. "Let him go to Westeros and fight the Lannisters. He'll weaken Cersei for us."
Ren went to the bow of the ship. He drew Blackfyre.
He swung it. It cleaved the air with a satisfying whoosh.
"Daenerys is besieging Yunkai," Ren noted. "By the time we get back, she'll be moving on Meereen."
Suddenly, the sky darkened.
Ren looked up. It wasn't a cloud.
A rift in the sky. Purple and jagged.
[System Alert]
[Dimensional Breach Detected.]
[Source: The Pocket Dimension.]
[Warning: The Anchor is unstable.]
Ren froze. "What?"
"System! Report!"
[Critical Error. External Interference. Something is trying to force its way INTO your Pocket Dimension from the Void.]
Ren ran to the portal door in his cabin.
"Saeko! Saya! Get everyone out of the dimension! Now!"
"What's happening?" Saya asked, running in.
"We're being boarded," Ren said, gripping Blackfyre.
"By something not from this world."
The door to the Pocket Dimension burst open.
But it wasn't a monster that stepped out.
It was a woman. She wore strange, futuristic armor made of shifting chrome. Her eyes were voids of starlight. She looked at Ren, then at the Game of Thrones world around her.
"Found you," she whispered. "The Anomaly."
She raised a hand. A beam of pure energy shot toward Ren.
Ren raised Blackfyre to block.
BOOM.
The impact blew the hull of the Balerion apart. Ren was thrown backward into the Violet Sea, the water rushing in to swallow him.